The Memory Game
by endlesslymax
Summary: Post-DH AU: Hermione Granger has been living in Muggle America under heavy modifications to her memory, but when it starts to come back due to a dramatic life choice, can she reintegrate herself with her old life, or must she live with the knowledge of a life she can never fit back to?


"Another dirty martini, please" Emilia leaned heavily onto the outdoor bar counter at the Ritz Carlton. She flipped her straight, dark hair over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the Los Angeles skyline out the window as she waited. After a moment, the bartender handed her a tall glass with olives and vodka to replace the one she had finished minutes before. She tipped him heavily as she paid for her drink, and looked up and down the line of people at the bar with her, returning to her favorite game of people watching. Emilia was turning to head back to her table when she caught a glimpse of a man with prominent cheekbones and a manner that would have screamed 'Aristocrat' if he hadn't been slumped over a whisky, nursing it alone. A small light flashed behind her eyes, the way it had been lately when she had been having the strangest recollections that she couldn't make sense of. Taking care to walk steadily in the designer heels she was wearing, she made her way over to the man who seemed so familiar, but a stranger at the same time. A few feet away, the man looked up, making eye contact.

"Draco?" Emilia asked, covering her mouth with a small giggle when she realized she had spoken much louder than she had meant to. His eyes widened, not with recognition, but with confusion and a bit of anger. He stood, drink abandoned and took hold of her arm, steering her to a more secluded part of the bar.

"Where did you hear that name!?" The man asked her, bewildered.

Emilia cocked her head. "It's yours, isn't it? At least I thought it was. You look so familiar, but I can't place it." The man gave her a long look, noting the summer dress that likely was a one-of-a-kind, her slim physique, and perfect manicure.

"Do I know you? Have we ever met? I mean, are you a, erm… you know," He hedged, trying desperately to place her face with someone he knew while he was still known as Draco.

"Am I a what?" Emilia asked, "Look, all I know is I thought I knew your name, but I don't understand. Why do you look so familiar? There was a flash of recognition when I saw you, like a spark behind my eyes, but I can't remember anything else. I'm sorry for bothering you," She turned to leave, forgetting the hand that was still holding onto her arm, not allowing her to walk away.

"Wait. I think I understand, you've been remembering things, haven't you? Flashes of what seem like a life you don't remember or understand," He quickly explained. Her jaw dropped a bit, and then it was her grabbing his arm, hissing, "How did you know that? How do I know you? Do you know what is happening to me?" Draco nodded, "I think I do. The same thing started happening to me about a year ago. I had hit rock bottom, and I thought to myself 'I need to start over' and all of the sudden I started getting these memories that didn't seem like they were mine. They didn't make any sense, and I thought I was going crazy. It took a while, but they all make sense now," Emilia had been nodding along with his description, seeing parallels to what she had been remembering.

"My fiance and I, we ended things after four years, and I thought that I needed to start over, start fresh. That's when all of these flashes started happening. They're memories?" She asked excitedly. "They are," He confirmed, "I can tell you all about them, do you want to go somewhere else?" She agreed, and led him to a private cabana near the pool. "We can talk in here, this space is permanently rented out to my agency and I'm the only one here today."

Draco took in his surroundings. The cabana was made to look like a small hut on a beach, with a straw roof that let in natural light, and a sandy floor. The amenities, though, were top of the line. Loungers that were also massage chairs sat around a couch that looked particularly pleasing, made even more so by Emilia strewn across it, with her long legs resting on the cushions. She had refreshed her drink from the kitchenette, and was patting the seat next to her on the couch and holding out his own refreshed drink for him. Draco thought to himself as he took a seat next to her, 'She has to be a witch. How else would her symptoms match mine so perfectly? Well, here goes nothing,'

"Alright, have you ever made something happen? Something you can't explain?" He asked, delicately. "I know you may think not, but wait a second and see if any memories come to you."

Emilia opened her mouth to respond, then closed it, taking on a contemplative look. "I don't know.. I saw a flash, right when you asked, like someone had asked me that question before, but I can't recall anything specific. At least, not yet."

Draco nodded, "That's alright. What do you remember? Start at the beginning." He could swear that there was something familiar about her, and he was fairly certain that he had gotten all of his old memories back. It just didn't make any sense that he couldn't figure out how he thought he knew her.

"Well," She began, "I was born and raised in England, until I was 11. I got a scholarship to a private boarding school in Texas that specialized in Mathematics and Science, and stayed there until I graduated high school. I don't remember much of my parents, they died when I was 16, but I was declared old enough to have my school act In Loco Parentis until I was of age. Past that, I came out here to LA because of a modeling job that I was offered. Honestly, I was pretty tired of academia after so many years of rigorous studying to be Valedictorian, and for what? I wanted my parents to be proud of me, but they're dead. So I moved, and now I'm signed with modeling agencies all over the globe, and I keep learning in my spare time. After moving here, I met my fiance, Aaron, and we moved in together quickly. We were happy, until we weren't anymore. When we called the engagement off, that's when all these flashes started. I haven't been able to make much sense of them, other than that they happen when I see or hear something that all of the sudden seems familiar even though I'm sure I've never seen it before." Emilia looked at him with pleading eyes, "You're telling me I'm not crazy? That these, these flashes are actually memories, that what, I've suppressed?"

Draco shook his head a bit, her manner was setting off that feeling in the back of his head, like he had forgotten something extremely important, but couldn't remember what it was. "You're not crazy. What I'm about to tell you is so fantastic, so unexpected, but you have to trust me." He took a deep breath, "I go by Thomas Strait now, but before, everyone used to know me as Draco Malfoy. I'm a wizard, and you're a witch. You can make things happen because of magic," He held up a hand, as he saw she was about to interrupt. "I know. It's crazy. Just listen and try to keep an open mind." She nodded, and he continued, "We went to a school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Her eyes sparked with recognition and she breathed, "Hogwarts, A History…"

"Yes, that was one of our First Year textbooks. You're starting to remember. Now, you're about my age, yes? 23? So we were probably there at the same time. There are four houses, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and,"  
"Gryffindor." Emilia finished for him. "That's where I was, that was my house! I don't know how, but I just _know._ "

Once again, Draco took in her flushed cheeks and her bright eyes, excited with new knowledge and it clicked. "Granger?" He asked, but there was no spark in her eyes as he asked. "Hermione Granger? Does that name mean anything to you?"

"Hermione? Hermione! Yes, that must have been, but no, that's _me_ …" Emilia's head was swirling, she felt dizzy with knowledge. She was magic. She went to school in Scotland. Her name _wasn't Emilia_ , it was _Hermione_. She didn't realize she was hyperventilating until she felt large hands on her shoulders, offering her an anchor. She looked up into dark grey eyes, struggling to find words, when she was enveloped in arms that felt like family, like home. After her breathing slowed, she had a million questions, but the most important one was, "Were we friends? You feel like family,"

"We weren't, not for a long time. But yes, for a while before I had my memory modified, we were the best of friends. You see, we were in a war, and my family was on the wrong side. For a long time, I didn't know any better. I was raised being told that hurting people was okay, as long as they were a certain type of people, but I changed. You and your friends, you helped me get away from that and start again. You guys were better than family,"

Emilia pulled back, "If we were so close, why did you say you had your memory changed? Is that what happened to me? Did you change my memory?"

Draco shook his head, "No, you must have chosen to have it done after I was already gone. We won the war when we were 18. We took out the leader of the movement trying to kill people like you, but his followers proved to be more resilient than we thought. My father became their new leader, and found a spell or a ritual to be able to use me against our side, since I am his only heir. You did more research than I thought possible once you figured it out, and learned that it was affected by distance. If I was far enough away, he couldn't drain my magic for himself anymore, or force me to sabotage our forces. So I ran. There was a new procedure for people who had lost everything in the war, to avoid Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder from causing a wizard or witch's magic to go haywire. It involved modifying one's memory to varying degrees, depending on how much you wanted or needed it changed. The purpose of mine was to be able to create a new life in America. I'm in the Muggle world in hiding, because if my father ever does decide to come after me, this is the last place he would look. Your memories stay retained behind a mental trigger: the thought that you need to start over. For most people, this isn't a problem, as they find prosperity and happiness in their new lives, but for us, it clearly didn't work out. I've had all of my memories back for a year now, and I think I prefer being Thomas rather than Draco now, but missing all of my friends, it _hurts_." He looked at the girl he had known as Hermione, "And you, you're so different I didn't even recognise you. You must have done a full memory wipe to have turned out so different from the girl I knew five years ago. You're still the same inside, with the same mannerisms, but I can't see my Hermione ever turning her back on her studies."

"I haven't, not completely," Emilia said with a slight blush. "I spend any time I'm not doing my job with my books. I love learning, it's my passion, it's just not something I could continue to pursue without my parents, without my reason for pushing so hard."

Draco ran a thumb across her cheek as she leaned into his hand, "I guess we will have to get to know each other all over again, then, Emilia." She turned large hazel eyes up to meet his and nodded with a smile, "I think I'd like that, Thomas."


End file.
